CHAPTER 34
New York was a silent grey skeleton. Terrans deserted the once thriving city, as they did every other major city on the planet. Only the ceaseless patrolling of lonely armored cars gave any semblance of hope that Terrans would ever return to their great cities. For these days of uncertainty, however, the planet’s sentients huddled in the forests and in the mountains; waiting out the coming storm as they had for so many thousands of years.
Yet it was not Terra alone that waited nervously for the climax of the Galactic war. The final days were tense throughout the galaxy. The coming conflict, narrowed in scope though it was by the dissolution of the Alliance, still looked to determine the future course of the Galactics. Indeed it could be easily surmised that the prospects of a Terran victory were now welcome, whereas the thought of a Golkos triumph, with its inevitable war of retribution against its former confederates, was considered the greater threat. Terra’s sober desires, which nevertheless hedged on Galactic sovereignty, were more desirable than a rampant Alexander. It was a marriage of convenience to be sure, but one that the former Alliance confederates congratulated themselves on. After twenty-five hundred generations of peace and stagnation the reality of Alexander’s threat, as proven at the expense of Syraptose and Quotterim, was quite enough. There was no need for war when there was a way out of it.
Alexander, during this time, limited his formal duties to finalizing and approving the peace accords with all the former Alliance states. He wanted the agreements complete as both a legal hedge against the states holding on to their final agreement pending the outcome of the Terran battle, and a calming effect on his own populace. The former was much easier than he expected. As his conditions required no ceding of any territory the states in question were only too happy to comply. Alexander’s demands that all planets without the Homeworld’s be open to trade and colonization were readily accepted, though on the condition that Terrans never number more than ten percent of the population. His linking of a federation to extend the authority of the present Galactic Senate was seen for what it was; a throw for Alexander’s legitimized hegemony throughout the civilized galaxy.
The Galactics accepted this as the right of Alexander’s power, but they did not agonize over it. Alexander may well hold sway over the Senate, but there were always the Chem to help keep him in line. If this could not be done politically by the Chem then it could be done quietly by the Chem Elder. It was widely known even at this early time that the marriage of Alexander and Nazeera was not simply a political maneuver, but rather a sincere expression of their mutual affection. That being true there was every confidence that the Galactics were well represented even beyond their Senate.
As to the Golkos there was little concern, though not none. The Golkos were a fiery race, and well able to give the Terrans a fight. The greatest fear on the part of the Galactics was that the Golkos might indeed be able to take Terra, if only temporarily. When Alexander’s fleets arrived home to a smoldering husk there was no telling what Alexander would do in retribution. Alexander was dangerous in the extreme, a fact no state bothered to debate; therefore, it was best if his energies were channeled in specific directions. An enraged Alexander was unpredictable and quite capable of placing the blame of his ravaged Homeworld upon the whole of the galaxy, not just the Golkos.
To this end there was some hope that even the Golkos might see reason and abandoned the war. What better way could they hope to end the conflict than after their victory at “Thermopylae?” The Golkos could claim, for history’s sake if nothing else, that they forced Alexander to the bargaining table, and the Terran Overlord was just magnanimous enough in victory to allow them that boast. The entirety of this scenario was presented, behind the scenes of course, between the combatants, and initially there were signs of acceptance from the Golkos. No accord was ever drawn up, however, for the Golkos government lost all contact with their own fleet. There was no word from Grand Admiral Khandar despite Golkos efforts, seemingly sincere, to contact him. As the Terran fleets continued to track and engage the Golkos fleet on its headlong course to Terra all diplomatic efforts were cut off.
Even without the body of the Seer’koh fleet the forces at Grand Admiral Khandar’s disposal were sobering. The Overlord of the Terran Empire was under no illusions as to the intentions or the competency of his counterpart. Over the weeks of the conflict Alexander studied every engagement and every scrap of data on Khandar, and he was on the whole quite impressed with the character of the man. True, Khandar had a ruthless quality about him which was alien to the Terran, but on the whole he found Khandar to be steadfast, aggressive and flexible. Having a reservoir of those qualities himself Alexander did not underestimate his opponent; nor did he subscribe to the media view of Khandar as a reckless madman.
The media reported on all aspects of the war, and they displayed their usual maddening capacity for uncovering sensitive information. That did not concern Alexander overmuch, though it drove his military advisors to frenetic frustration. Alexander’s main concern was the media’s habitual art of supposition; wherein they attempted to fill the gaps of information with their own conjecture. In just such a manner did the portrait of Grand Admiral Khandar the destroyer of worlds come into being. It fed the hysteria of the moment to such a point that Alexander had to take a personal hand in ensuring the populace that sufficient forces remained about Terra to turn back Khandar and bring the war to a swift end.
Alexander’s assurances had their expected calming influence; despite his detractors, of which there were still many, Alexander was a powerfully romantic figure to the people. In times of crisis such leaders tend to be seen as the people wish to see them. If there were flaws in Alexander’s strategies the populace was more or less willing to ignore them; confident that so long as he was present in the battle he would find a way to victory.
Alexander was, all in all, quite proud of his citizens, but not so pleased with himself. They faced the coming crisis with fortitude and nervously constructive energy and so did he, but he agonized over what he saw as a potentially fatal mistake in his plans.
As he told Admiral Augesburcke in the moments after the fireship attack on the Golkos-Seer’koh fleets, “I could have ended it right here, right now. If I kept the 5th and the 2nd here we’d have had enough to wipe them out.”
Augesburcke reminded him that it would have been an all or nothing gamble, but Alexander still let it gnaw at him. Still, in the end, all the defenses which could be built were ready, and Terra was as prepared as possible. Alexander, his tactical error no doubt in the back of his mind, took precautions against defeat. All Terran computers with the locations of Terran colonies had their positions wiped clean. Afterwards even Alexander did not know where they were. Each had the ability to monitor the ethernet, and should Terra’s survival be assured the colonies would broadcast their positions after the danger passed.
The next days went by with agonizing languor. Reports placed Khandar’s lead contingents less than a day away from the Terran system and Alexander spent a final afternoon on the float house at Pend Oreille. There was a deceptive calm on the lake, as often happens before momentous events. The final preparations on both sides having been made there was little to do but await the joining of the two forces. The Terran Overlord reviewed their defensive status that morning. The remnants of the Seventh Fleet, bolstered by the Hashimoto’s projects and the new dreadnoughts now numbered three hundred and ninety-three warships. The balance of the firepower rested in fifty-eight battleships and twenty-two dreadnoughts. The carrier conversions gave the Terran force a greater number of capital ships than Golkos fleet over thrice its size.
Admiral Konstantinov’s submarine “wolf pack” was still engaged in an unrelenting assault on the Golkos fleet. They’d inflicted considerable damage, tallying another sixty-one Golkos warships either destroyed or forced out of superluminal. There were no losses to the submarines as the invaders refused to alter their course and pursue. As to the estimates for the Golkos fleet Alexander could be fairly certain that he still faced some eight to nine hundred-odd warships. The information from the rescued Quotterim put the original Golkos fleet strength at thirteen hundred and twenty warships, of which one hundred and twenty were battleships. Losses to the Terran fireships, harassment and the battle of Thermopylae shrunk the Golkos fleet by a full third. Alexander was fairly satisfied with the attrition of the Golkos. To cut an attacking force by such a significant fraction—especially in their capital ships—affected not only its striking power but its morale, and while the prospect of facing nine hundred warships was grim it was a long sight better than the four thousand that advanced on Terra only a few weeks past.
These thoughts in mind Alexander retired to the deck after the morning military council, intent on enjoying the remainder of the day. The Sun was warm, but not hot, and a hint of a cool breeze kept him comfortable. The weather was as fine as could be wished for, and the scenery was spectacular. There was, therefore, no reason not to relax, but Alexander could think of nothing but the coming invasion. The initial Golkos squadrons were expected to enter the Terran system at half past midnight, Terran Zulu time.
Nazar, a close advisor in the entire affair, could not share Alexander’s pessimistic view. He was, in fact, very much looking forward to the encounter. He considered Grand Admiral Khandar’s continuation of the invasion bold but foolhardy. He pointed out that the Golkos currently held less than a three-to-one advantage in ships, explaining, “That number is dangerously close to the limits of Galactic doctrine. A four-to-one advantage is desired for any major planetary system to be attacked with reasonable success of capture. This is due, of course, to potent planetary defense systems. That ratio was available to Grand Admiral Khandar with the Seer’koh fleet at his side. Without his confederates the Grand Admiral is on dangerous ground. Even a three-to-one advantage is considered risky; but with Khandar’s current resources, and considering his past losses, an attack now is desperately rash.”
Alexander pointed out that the Terran strike fleets had a lesser advantage over the Syraptose and the Quotterim as Khandar had over himself. The comparison brought out a laugh from Nazar. “The Syraptose are not Terrans! Even the Quotterim, who fought bravely and intelligently in my opinion, cannot be consider on par with the Golkos or the Seer’koh forces. You have taught us a lesson in warfare, Alexander. At the moment Galactic doctrine is being rewritten by you. Khandar must assume that Alexander’s defenses are equivalent to his fleets in tenacity, unpredictability and capability. If he does not he is simply a fool. I can say, and with some authority, that Terra is easily the most fearsomely defended planet in the known galaxy. If Grand Admiral Khandar survives this I will personally question his sanity. Why do you think the remainder of the Alliance seceded en masse?”
“There is another question which begs an answer,” Alexander mused.
“Oh, you know the answer, Alexander, you knew it all along,” Nazar reminded him. “Why else send your strike fleets halfway across the galaxy? You had this all worked out in that head of yours, even to the break-up of the Alliance. I wondered why you didn’t attack the Golkos instead of the Syraptose and Quotterim, but I’m beginning to see. The Golkos are just malevolent enough to have considered continuing their offensive after the fall of Golkos, if for no other reason than revenge. They could have reached Terra with the continued support of the Syraptose and the Quotterim before your fleets could have done anything about it. The Alliance would have stayed together; none would have deserted the Golkos after such a catastrophe unless they initiated it by pulling out and making peace with you. That was not nearly as assured as the surrender of the Syraptose and the Quotterim; and you would be facing three times as many warships about Terra as you do now. Yet as things have played out it is obvious that no planetary system could hold out against a single Terran fleet. With two fleets out in space, who knows where, not one of Golkos’s confederates was willing to risk being the next target.”
“Yet if the invasion of Terra were to be successful,” Alexander countered.
“Impossible! At that time there were already worries within the Alliance, despite the loss at Thermopylae. That defeat may have had as much to do with the Alliance dissolution as the horrendous losses the Golkos-Seer’koh were taking. I shall remind you of your own propaganda campaign, Alexander. The entire galaxy saw the death of the New Jersey at Thermopylae, and it shook them. It was a Terran defeat certainly, but the galaxy needed to know just how Terrans handled defeat. It was glorious, Alexander, glorious! It didn’t rattle you, it didn’t even phase you. The Terrans were the warriors of legend, and answered their defeat defiantly to the last. With the ensuing capture of two Alliance Homeworlds and the renewed battering of the Golkos-Seer’koh the rest was simple: there were none except the Golkos who had any confidence that the capture of Terra was even a possibility. We are creatures of procedure and protocol now, through inactivity, and peace if you will. To expect the Alliance to make a leap of faith in themselves was to expect too much. You knew all of this, of course.”
“You give me too much credit,” Alexander told her. “I suspected many of the things you’ve said and acted on those suspicions. But who can tell in this universe what will happen next? The rise of Alexander to power is a strange and unlikely enough event in its own right. I will not take his successes for granted.”
“It does not matter that you do or not,” Nazar told him evenly, “it is the galaxy which understands the destiny of Alexander. Your victories were written long ago.”
“You take from me the glory of accomplishment,” Alexander said under his breath, grumbling. “I have never believed in pre-ordained fate. If the galaxy believes Alexander will conquer all then that is its concern, not mine. I will not relinquish what victories I gain through my skill or the fortune I make. I accept the universe as it is, with an equal amount of luck and opportunity available to all. I do not see Grand Admiral Khandar as a madman. He is a warlord. A warlord makes his name known through the passion of his art. Victory is what he seeks, and no victory worth histories name is achieved without risk. Does Khandar recognize the risk? Of course he does, but the prize, a victory over Alexander, is well worth the risk. We face a very real threat. Khandar is bold and worthy of his position. This will be a battle well worthy of the history books. There is no surety in my mind who shall triumph. I look forward to it.”
“As do I, Alexander,” Nazar smiled, his sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.
The opening of the screen door brought Admiral Augesburcke into view.
The Admiral saluted. “Planetary blackout has been initiated, Alexander. The relay beacons have been activated and all squadrons of the Seventh Fleet are at their posts. The Iowa is waiting to take you aboard.”
“Status of the Fifth and Second Fleets?” Alexander asked, standing and straightening his uniform.
“Two days and three days respectively,” Augesburcke admitted. “They’ve been at emergency flank for a week now.”
“They don’t want to miss the fight!” Alexander smiled grimly, and he shrugged. “It is time to go, shall we?” Alexander turned with Nazar and the Admiral, striding through the house and onto the dock. There was no media there, only a long line of soldiery shielding the Overlord and his party from sight. At the end of the dock an enormous platform had been built. Upon it sat Alexander’s shuttle, “Terra One,” a modified 747 with its truncated wings and sash of gold and purple paint. Alexander led the way up the stairs. The door closed. With a hardly to be heard whine the leviathan floated into the air and then with a low growl it disappeared into the afternoon sky. In every window there was a Terran face wondering if perhaps they looked upon their Homeworld for the final time.
#
“Our scouts have identified emissions from the Terran Homeworld, Grand Admiral. The coordinates have been disseminated throughout the fleet, and converging courses plotted. We are now in the prescribed position for your spherical envelopment of Terra. We are prepared to drop out of superluminal, Grand Admiral!” Admiral Moltor advised the grim warlord who paced the bridge feverishly.
“How many squadrons have reached the rendezvous?” Khandar asked.
“Thirty-one, Grand Admiral; eighty percent of the fleet,” Moltor reported.
“The remainders of a fleet that should total thirteen hundred ships,” Khandar observed, “but due to the damned ferocity of these Terrans it is now little two thirds that. Blast it! When shall the remainder of the squadrons arrive?”
“They shall rendezvous within the next half decurn, Grand Admiral. It is a victory in its own right that we have been this accurate. Never have Golkos warriors achieved such precision against such odds.”
“Then we have much still to learn, Moltor!” Khandar cursed. “Alexander, if you will remember, converged two separate fleets upon Syraptose and Quotterim undetected and simultaneously! After weeks in space they coordinated their attack within moments of each other. I had hoped as much from our own people in this desperate hour. Let us not waste time on our own shortcomings, however. Our latecomers will serve as an active reserve. Broadcast all of our battle orders on an omni-directional beacon. Our reserves are clear to engage as soon as they may. Give the order to power the weapons and drop out of superluminal!” The screens of the Golkos battleship showed the streaking stars slowing to a dead stop. A tiny blue starlike speck rushed out of the background, swelling into a bloated blue and white world of water and mist. Craggy brown continental masses peaked from beneath the swirling clouds. It was a beautiful world, and seemingly helpless to stop the hundreds of lethal warships which now converged upon it.
“Shields on maximum! Scan for ships! All squadrons prepare to enter bombardment orbits! Report!”
“Scanning, Grand Admiral,” Moltor replied. A concussion answered Khandar’s question, however, and the main screens showed the flash of weapons fire from a phalanx of the sleek black torpedo shaped Terran scouts which had harried the Golkos for the last two hundred light years. Dozens of them made their presence known immediately, but it was Khandar himself who first sighted the great silver dreadnoughts of Terra as they sped about the blue horn of their planet.
“There they are!” He cried gleefully, almost drunk with the moment. “I see you Alexander! Now bear the wrath of Khandar and Golkos! Grand fleet of Golkos proceed with the envelopment! Bombardment squadrons enter your bombardment orbits and fire at will! Attack squadrons engage the Terran Fleet. You have your orders!”
“Confirmed Grand Admiral! It is the remnants of the Terran Seventh Fleet!” Admiral Moltor informed Khandar. “There are two hundred and twenty-five ships of the line, with seven battleships. In addition there are ninety-three scouts.”
“We have them!” Khandar thundered. “Engage them, Captain. Fire at will!”
“Grand Admiral we are receiving a hail from the Terran battleship Bismarck
“Put it on!” Khandar ordered.
The main viewer suddenly brightened with the unmistakable visage of a Terran Admiral. Silver haired and stern he wasted no time with pleasantries, his menacing bassoon voice growling. “This is Admiral von Richtofen. You are violating Terran space. In the name of galactic peace I give you one opportunity and one opportunity only to power down your weapons and submit to Terran escort. If you refuse I shall destroy you. There will be no further parley, there will be no mercy. Surrender and I shall be magnanimous. Decide as you must. Richtofen, out!”
“I had hoped to see Alexander at the head of his Homeworld’s defense, Admiral von Richtofen. No matter, I shall root him out presently. This day Khandar shall walk upon the ashes of the Terran Homeworld.” Khandar cut the link and turned to Admiral Moltor. “Concentrate all attacks on the Terran flagship! Commence immediate bombardment of the Terran Homeworld!”
Even as Khandar gave his final orders the two fleets came into firing range. Despite his numerical advantage almost half of Khandar’s fleet was entering orbit about the planet and ignorant of the Terrans. Khandar’s attacking squadrons were spread out with the intention of providing covering fire for the bombardment squadrons. The Terran fleet, however, hurtled themselves at Khandar’s flagship in a tightly knit formation, concentrating their firepower. As Khandar’s flagship formation met the Terrans their numbers were nearly equal, but the Terrans possessed an advantage in firepower. It was almost a reverse of their previous encounters, but foreseeable because of Khandar’s known objective: Terra.
The Nived Sheur glowed under the full broadsides of two flanking Terran battleships and their escorts. Khandar returned fire, lighting up the asymmetric shields of the Bismarck like the eerie auroras on Terra. The two fleets mixed for several moments, their formations melding in a confusing array of streaking metal hulks, plasma and blaster discharges. Such was the power of the Terran projectors and the skill of their crews at high velocities that the Seventh got the better of the first engagement, leaving several capital ships damaged and shaken. But as soon as the Terrans broke free of the first concentration of Golkos they found the remainder of the Golkos attack squadrons closing on them. There was no respite for recharging their weapons or damage control. The Golkos engaged them immediately and with greater effect. The order went throughout the Seventh to break up into their autonomous squadrons.
The breakup of the Terrans did not make Khandar’s task any easier, but it signaled a small success early in the engagement. The vaunted Terran firepower was now spread out, and with his greater numbers he could hope to defeat them through attrition by maintaining his concentration of force.
“Excellent!” He exclaimed, congratulating himself prematurely. “Alexander must now attack me incessantly with smaller numbers of ships. I can meet him with firepower enough to destroy him if he maintains his attacks. The battle is nearly won! My bombardment squadrons are even now in orbit. If Alexander cannot concentrate his fleet upon them it is only a matter of time!” Khandar ordered the main viewer centered on the bombardment squadrons. The tiny specks of the four hundred ships swept gracefully across the blue and white expanses, as his attack squadrons engaged the Terran fleet overhead. Khandar watched anxiously for some sign of action, the bloom of blaster fire on planetary shields, the glow of burning cities, even the searing fire of the massive Terran planetary projectors. There was nothing. His attention shifted entirely from the cacophony of the fleet-to-fleet battle to the stillness of the planet. He watched and he watched, but to no effect. There was nothing happening. His fist slammed down in fury on his comm panel.
“Blast it what is going on down there? Why aren’t you firing!”
“Grand Admiral we can find no targets,” came the shaky answer from the commander of the bombardment squadrons.
“Explain!” Khandar demanded.
“Grand Admiral, our scans show no cities, no industrial complexes, no centers of civilization, nothing! There are no planetary shields, no projectors and no power sources. Our preliminary scans indicate the entire planet is devoid of civilized life!”
“Impossible! Our position for Terra was estimated, but how could we be led astray? What is the source of the emissions we tracked here?” Khandar asked Admiral Moltor vehemently.
Moltor went to a board and personally tracked and identified the emission source. It took a long moment, during which Khandar paced like a starving Tyrannosaurus behind his back.
“Well, what of it?” Khandar seethed.
“Difficult to tell, Grand Admiral,” Moltor told him. “With the interference of our own defense screens, the emissions of the battle, it is difficult to isolate such a small source of power.” As if to give credence to his problems the Nived Sheur convulsed under the shock of another full broadside. Moltor lost his hold of the board and tumbled over a rail to the decking. Khandar was spun back, crashing spread eagle against the bulkhead. Fire sprang from beneath a panel, immediately followed by the acrid scent of the extinguishers. Khandar felt the sickening sensation of weightlessness for just a moment. It was long enough for him to float off the deck, but then the emergency inertials cut in and he came down with a jarring thump. On the main viewer Khandar watched the majestic form of the Bismarck float by in profile—first the sharp prow of the nose, then the enormous turrets, the black holes of the guns pointing straight through Khandar. Following the big guns there was the menacing superstructure, the rear turrets and finally the graceful stern. Khandar was struck dumb by the vision, for the ship filled the screen. It sauntered by him as if on parade, unconcerned, and indomitable. The image filled Khandar with rage and he roared, “Fire, damn you, fire!”
The Nived Sheur gunners answered their Grand Admiral’s order, but the blaster fire merely splashed off the Bismarck’s shields; the projectors not being fully charged after their last firing. Khandar leapt down to the helm, personally directing the helmsmen to follow the Bismarck and ordering the entirety of the Attack Squadron to imitate him.
Fury gripped Khandar so completely that it took Admiral Moltor’s actually laying hands on his person to communicate with him. “Grand Admiral it is a trick!” Moltor kept saying, but it was only after the Captain repeated himself three times that Khandar’s eyes showed some sign of recognition.
“What is it you’re saying?” Khandar hissed.
“It is a trick Grand Admiral! The planet below is not Terra! The emissions are coming from a beacon satellite in orbit about the planet. They are obviously artificial.” Moltor told him.
Khandar struck his forehead with the heal of his hand, “By the stars how stupid of me!” He breathed. Silently he cursed himself, but then he pushed his failure aside and the clearness of his resolve returned to him. “An excellent ruse but let us make Alexander pay for it at the least. Continue to follow and engage the Bismarck with all available forces. Disengage the bombardment squadrons from orbit; have them join in the chase!”
“As you command, Grand Admiral!” Admiral Moltor replied.
The order was disseminated throughout the fleet and soon the entirety of Golkos forces were set to converge on the Terran flagship. Khandar walked slowly to his command chair and sat heavily down. He watched the fan tail of the Bismarck slowly recede in the viewer, the glow of Golkos firing glancing harmlessly off her rear shields as the range increased. The Terran ships were tougher, faster and more heavily armed than his proud but ancient Nived Sheur, but he refused to give up the chase. When the Terran fleet regrouped in front of his pursuing ships Khandar knew they would not continue the battle. Their ruse discovered the Terrans called a halt to their mission.
A final message came to Khandar from the “Bismarck’s” Admiral von Richtofen. He told them, “Consider yourselves warned. I advise you to leave Terran space at this time; if you do not you will never see your homes again!”
Then the Terrans went to superluminal. Khandar watched them disappear, but still with a soldierly eye. He glanced at Admiral Moltor, but the Golkos shook his head.
“Each squadron took a different direction, Grand Admiral, there’s no way to tell which, if any, are towards the real Terra,” he said morosely.
Khandar sighed with resignation, but his orders were clear and determined. He brought together his Admiralty on the comm board. “Send a squadron upon each of the departure tracks we recorded. In addition send a squadron back to this planet for a thorough scanning. Alexander is just bold enough to bring us to his own planet and trick us into believing we’re somewhere else. We shall break up the remainder of the fleet by squadron and begin a systematic search of every habitable system within ten light years of this position. The search is to begin immediately. I need not remind you of the importance in finding Terra swiftly. If today’s skirmish is any indication then it should be apparent to all of us that it is unwise to await the return of the Terran fleets from Syraptose and Quotterim. We have two, maybe three decurns, within which to capture Terra intact. Your maximum efforts are required by me, and by Golkos. Is this understood?” There were stern salutes from Khandar’s subordinates as each signed off. Within moments the Golkos fleet was breaking up again.
Admiral Moltor approached Khandar, who was gazing into the viewer watching his squadrons disappear. When, after a moment, Khandar noted him the Captain reported, “The damage to the Nived Sheur is not inconsequential but all systems are still operational in either primary, backup, or emergency modes. We can get underway at any moment.”
“What are the losses to the fleet?” The Grand Admiral asked.
“Not overly significant, Grand Admiral,” the Captain told him, handing a slim pad to Khandar.
Khandar perused it without emotion, counting off the ships. “Three battleships destroyed or too heavily damaged to go to superluminal; two heavy cruisers; seventeen frigates and destroyers. Roughly three percent, unless you consider that we used only slightly over half our forces actually attacking the Terrans. Then the numbers look more sobering. Any estimates on Terran losses?”
“There are at least three Terran vessels observed to have been completely destroyed, and there are seven that are heavily damaged. Those vessels are still within this system. They have rendezvoused for mutual support. Grand Admiral they cannot withstand the firepower of the flagship squadron should we choose to attack them,” Moltor told Khandar.
Khandar went over to the tactical hologram. The Terran ships in question had reformed in orbit about the planet. Standing by was a formation of a dozen Terran scouts, providing cover. Studying the display Khandar crossed his arms and said, “This is truly a war for survival. Alexander leaves his stricken ships behind to fend for themselves rather than waste his precious forces in a vain attempt to defend them. Even we have been forced into this. How many ships have we left behind Moltor, three hundred and fifty or so?”
“Grand Admiral it would be a great victory to boast of to the galaxy and to our people,” Moltor remarked. “You have driven the Terrans from a planet in their space and destroyed their defense force utterly!”
Khandar glanced at his Vice-Admiral with a hard eye. “There is no victory for us in this Moltor. Alexander gained what he desired: time. That we fought him to a standstill is the best I can make of it, and losing two ships to his one at that. Further along the path of glory I will not go. What fame is there in salvaging this deception by destroying defenseless ships and defenseless beings? I’ve enough blood on my soul as it is, Moltor. Besides, the Terrans take glory in fighting to the death. They rally around it. I’ll not give them any more martyrs. It’s Terra I want, not a few more ships and Terrans! Leave them be, and plot a search course to the nearest habitable system!”
“As you wish, Grand Admiral!” Admiral Moltor replied.
#
Alexander watched the battle unfold on the Iowa’s tactical hologram. He regretted missing the battle but he determined not to leave the Terran system until the war should be settled one way or the other. The Iowa squadron and the “new” dreadnoughts and battleships guarded Terra during the battle, and although the outcome was in all aspects satisfactory it was a tense ten hours before the squadrons of the Seventh Fleet covered the four light years separating Terra from the “Beta Terra” system. When all ships reported back Alexander convened a final council of war. Shortly the entirety of the Admiralty, to include Admirals Sampson and Cathcart on a secure Scythian psionic link and the Generals of the Terran Defense Forces were present, watching their Overlord intently. Alexander addressed them grimly.
“I shall keep this short as at any moment we can expect Golkos scouts in our system. The first stage of our defense strategy has been successfully completed. We have by the action at “Terra-Beta” gained a precious ten hours at minimum, and hopefully significantly more time for the Fifth and Second Fleets to return to system. Admiral von Richtofen, Admiral Konstantinov and the entirety of the Seventh Fleet and “Wolfpack” forces are to be congratulated. The next phase of defense will be equally important in our efforts to further confound the Golkos. Doubtless the Golkos have had some success in tracking the superluminal signatures of our returning ships. Soon a Golkos scout force, probably of squadron strength, will discover our system. It is of the utmost importance that this scout force be annihilated, if at all possible, before it can send our position. This is a difficult task at best, and very likely the emissions of the battle will still be observed even should the Golkos fail to send a transmission. However, if there is a chance to further the confusion of our adversaries we should take it.
“The final stage in the defense is, of course, the conventional confrontation within our own system. I do not have to belabor the meaning of success or failure here. You each have a thorough knowledge of the battle plan. The Iowa will continuously update the coordinates of our attack focal point. The Iowa squadron will concentrate on the focal point with the immediate support of the Bismarck squadron. “Enterprise” and her twenty-one dreadnoughts will be our “hammer” and act as a floating reserve lending muscle to our focal point or support to squadrons at risk. When the Nived Sheur is identified we’ll let the hammer fall and take out Grand Admiral Khandar and his command squadron. Let’s see how the body reacts when we chop off its head. That’s the core of it, ladies and gentlemen. Beyond that you are clear to accomplish the objectives of the battle plan as the situations warrant. Your firing solutions are your own, and you have the parameters for maneuver. Should conditions dictate you, of course, have the authorization to take whatever actions you deem necessary to achieve victory. That is a broad doctrine. Allow your initiative to use it for our advantage. One final reminder, all Terran based batteries will be concentrating their fire on warships entering the bombardment orbits, and secondarily on extra-orbit fleet focal points. The “Wolfpack” under the command of Admiral Konstantinov is completely autonomous. I caution you all to be aggressive but to remember one thing: it will invariably get confused and crowded up there. Ensure that your gunners are targeting Golkos ships, and not submarines or missile launching spacecraft. We need to make every weapon count. Are there any questions?” Alexander waited a moment, and when there were no queries he addressed his own most nagging question. “Admiral Sampson, Admiral Cathcart, please update your estimated times of arrival.”
Admiral Cathcart whose forces would arrive first answered, “Thirty-seven hours for the “King George V” and the bulk of the Fifth Fleet; two hundred and eleven ships. The remaining ships have throttled back due to engine problems. Their estimated times of arrival range from seventy-nine hours to ten days from now.”
Alexander nodded, “Admiral Sampson?”
Sampson’s dark face looked dour. “I am afraid we are going to miss this one. Odin can lead one hundred-eighty seven ships in the Terran system no sooner than sixty-three hours from now. The Wisconsin and our follow up wave are still eleven days out.”
“Continue your present course of action Admiral Sampson.” At this moment Admiral Augesburcke whispered something in the Overlord’s ear. Alexander nodded. “The superluminal signature of a Golkos squadron has been identified. Good luck to us all. May God bless Terra, Alexander out!”
Alexander immediately turned to the Iowa’s tactical display, where Augesburcke was pointing out the position of the approaching superluminal distortion. Alexander saw the small pattern rapidly approaching the system from the direction of Saturn. “Are you sure they’re not a group of stragglers from “Terra-Beta?””
“No, all of our warships are accounted for,” Augesburcke replied. “We’ve calculated their trajectory. If they come out of superluminal close to Terra then we can take them out quickly. If they’re cautious they’ll pop out somewhere on the periphery and accomplish a detailed scan. There’s not much we can do about that. It will take us about five minutes to engage in that case.”
“They would be rash indeed to venture into a system at superluminal,” Nazar told them. “Navigation at superluminal velocities is a precise exercise, and gravitational wells must be taken into account with exactitude. Galactic navigational systems are very capable of transiting star fields, but star systems require an exponentially greater amount of calculations due to minute perturbations of planets and their relative velocities. The Golkos can take this into account up to a point, but where they will have difficulty is your asteroid field, which they are even now approaching.”
“The mass of the asteroids is so spread out as to be almost inconsequential,” Alexander said.
“It is not the overall mass,” Nazar told him, “but the inconsistency of the gravitational field in that plane. Unfortunately, Galactic navigational sensors cannot pick up the small masses of asteroids until their gravitational influence is noted by fluctuations in the local gravitational field. At superluminal velocities the computers simply cannot filter out the rate of change in the gravitational field. The result is what we call “superluminal lock out,” a phenomena which confounds the ship’s computer and causes an instantaneous drop out of superluminal. This places the ship at high velocity directly in the asteroid field, and locks out the ships superluminal capability until the navigational computers can be reprogrammed in a homogeneous gravitational field.”
“Then we shall just have to wait and see how rash they are,” Alexander remarked. “Admiral move some of our forces to a point adjacent the asteroid belt.”
Augesburcke sent the order, but after reading the information on his board he said, “They are on their way, but they won’t arrive for approximately three minutes. The Golkos will be passing the belt in approximately thirty seconds.”
“It will have to suffice,” Alexander replied, and they waited.
The superluminal signature took only seconds to pass by the orbit of Saturn and Jupiter, and then, as if Nazar was prescient several ships suddenly appeared in the center of the belt. In another few seconds the entire superluminal signature disappeared, and in its place were the codes for seventeen ships. The ethernet was immediately awash with calls from the vessels. They were not signals of discovery, however, but of distress. It was immediately apparent that the Golkos had not detected the asteroid belt until it was too late. A half a dozen vessels suffered “superluminal lock-out” and were reporting significant damage, the remainder of the squadron dropped out of superluminal as a precaution. Their commander immediately came onto the ethernet to ascertain the status of his stricken vessels, but it was also apparent that his mission in the system was not driven out of his mind. As the cacophony of the Golkos problems flooded the ethernet Augesburcke reported that the flagship was beginning a thorough scan of the system.
“It won’t take them long to pick up our power generators, radio silence or not. How long until our squadrons can engage,” Alexander asked.
“Still another seventy seconds,” Augesburcke replied.
“That Captain got right to it,” Alexander nodded, sighing. “I suppose everything can’t work out just right. Very well, Admiral our forces may fire at will. Jam their transitions if possible.”
“The range is too great,” Augesburcke shook his head, and then he pounded his fist on the cons ole. “They have us, Alexander. I’m sorry.”
Alexander could now hear the urgent but calm voice of the Golkos commander as he transmitted a continuous beacon for his compatriots to home in on. The Overlord could not help but admire the courageous resolve of the doomed Captain as he reported the three Terran squadrons bearing down on his crippled ships. Alexander took his seat, and with a wave of his hand dismissed Augesburcke’s apology.
“You are cleared for attack Admiral. Should surrender be offered allow them five minutes to evacuate their ships or destroy the vessels.”
“Yes Alexander,” Augesburcke growled, irritated with himself. Both Alexander and Augesburcke saw an opportunity missed, but as their ships rolled in on the outnumbered Golkos Alexander took it philosophically. He barely gave consideration to the drama of the small opening skirmish which they viewed on the main screens. The Golkos ignored the Terran hails for surrender even though they were outnumbered five-to-one and began firing as soon as the Terrans were in range. The Terran ships attacked the stationary Golkos squadron from three different directions at once. Even in this small fray and with their superiority in numbers the Terrans refused to show complacency. They whirled about the poorly prepared Golkos like dervishes, their projectors spouting flame. The Golkos were in the center of a maelstrom, and their haphazard return fire was patently ineffective. Within a few moments the first of the Golkos ships took a broadside after her shields had collapsed. The side of the mottled jade cigar imploded under the projectors and a series of bright flashes ripped sequentially across her right flank from stern to bow. Plasma began to emanate from her in bright blue and red streams. Then her drive imploded. The ship parted at the amidships, the remains of the bow spinning crazily though space. The stern of the warship, and the drive, were completely consumed in the conflagration.
The commander of the squadron ignored the doom of this first ship, instead, calmly directed the fire and formation of his remaining charges. Several of the Golkos warships were unable to rejoin on their battleship. Cut out from the covering fire of their tiny formation they fell prey to the small black packs of boats which suddenly appeared in the fight. The unfortunate stragglers found themselves completely unable to track or fire on the small, swift, and lethal submarines. Amidst a flurry of projector and torpedo fire from every direction they fired blindly and to little effect. In the space of five minutes the stragglers took a terrific pounding, and the flash of blasters on their shields changed from a steady glow to a wildly fluctuating cascade of light and plasma. There was no response to the calls for surrender, but when their shields began to buckle the life pods began to launch from the hulks. The submarines ignored the fragile life boats, allowing them to clear their stricken parents. When all were away that could be reasonably expected the wolves dispatched the carcasses.
The fate of the first Golkos squadron in Terran space continued along those lines. The Terrans with a numerical advantage of five-to-one dispatched the Golkos swiftly and efficiently. They could have waded in ship-to-ship and accomplished their goal, and the Golkos would have been more than willing to give them a fight, but it was not to be. The already damaged Golkos found themselves in the same predicament as their separated sisters. Drawn together as they were there was little opportunity for the prolonged engagement they desired. Still, they fought with resolution, and two Terran warships limped out of the fray with shields blown out or blaster banks overloaded. The Golkos had no chance to take advantage of their slight victories, however, as the deadly sphere of “Alexander’s Wheel” closed tightly about them like a noose. The battle raged for only half an hour, until space swam with Golkos life pods, and an ancient battleship spun lazy and impotent, like the drowned carcasses of some great and once powerful bull now adrift in the swollen currents of the river. There were no calls for surrender, but the final act of the Golkos squadron, now bereft of their leader, was for two destroyers to disappear desperately into superluminal; leaving the field for who knows where.
When all was said and done Alexander sat back in his seat and reflected. “If that was any indication of what we’re in for then it shall be a momentous battle,” he said. “Thankfully, these first engagements have gone well. That should serve to give the populace confidence.”
“Speaking of the populace, Overlord, do you have time for a statement after this engagement?” said a familiar mechanical voice. A small spherical probe floated to the left of Alexander.
Alexander grimaced at the sound, but nonetheless glanced at the probe. “What need have we for a statement, you’ve been broadcasting the situation from the bridge of the Terran flagship, what more could you want?”
“While it is true that I have been granted unprecedented access to this greatest of Galactic conflicts in the modern kicellia I am still limited by my programming,” the probe answered.
“Of which I am thankful and the Golkos frustrated I am sure,” Alexander replied. “I invite you to continue your observations. It is unprecedented that such access be given to the citizens of Terra, the Federation and the galaxy. Yet it is imperative, in my opinion, that the galaxy get a true vision of the direction it is taking. This is a crucial time for all Galactics. Terra has enacted peaceful accords with all civilizations, but for the Golkos; and I hope this puts to rest Galactic fears concerning Terran expansion. We simply want membership in your community, without favor, prejudice or fear. After this invasion is rebuffed I hope the situation will be settled to the satisfaction of all.”
“Does that include the Golkos, Overlord?” The probe asked.
“Terra does not desire the enmity of any civilization,” Alexander replied, “however; the Golkos have committed a grave offense against Terra, and are even now threatening the Terran Homeworld. My concern is the present, and I shall deal with Golkos problem accordingly.”
“Then you are confident in your ability to destroy this Golkos invasion?” The probe asked.
“We shall see,” Alexander growled, closing his fist slowly as if he had the entirety of the Golkos Empire in his hand. “Before this is ended I will stand upon the soil of Golkos and dictate my terms of peace!”
“Thank you, Overlord that fits well within my parameters and the Galactic desire for a statement at this point in time” the probe said and it floated away to an unobtrusive corner of the bridge.
Alexander stared after the probe with ill concealed irritation. Nazar approached him sporting a ghost of a smile. “I’d not intended to give the damn thing any sort of a sound bite,” he confided. “Hopefully, this won’t get out. I don’t want Khandar to know Alexander’s been outmaneuvered by a artificial sportscaster.”
“I was somewhat surprised that you agreed with my proposal to use the probes,” Nazar said. “I must admit the motivation behind it was selfish. I desired all the galaxy to share in the glory that is to come.”
“My motivation was purely empathetic,” Alexander said. “I could not leave the citizens of Terra blind and deaf in this defining moment. I could not have stood by while history was made in the stars above me. At least my people shall see the progress of the war.”
Nazar sighed, “Now we wait, I suppose. Khandar is competent and aggressive, but he will need some time to organize his attack. After dispatching his squadrons to search for Terra he has a daunting task to regroup if he hopes to strike swiftly.”
Augesburcke stepped up to Alexander, handing him a data screen. “The geometry of Grand Admiral Khandar’s search, as provided by Konstantinov’s “Wolfpack,” clearly indicates a spherical pattern of all the systems around “Terra-Beta.” If Khandar wants to regroup and coordinate his attack he couldn’t bring the whole of his force to bear on us for at least twenty hours.”
“Twenty hours, almost another day,” Alexander mused. “It will gall him to wait that long, but I don’t think Khandar will order an immediate attack. Although it would save time, a piecemeal attack would force Khandar to give up his concentration of force in space. That is sacrificing a great deal, especially with our edge in tactics and firepower ship-to-ship. Still, things are tight for Khandar. He knows the Second and Fifth fleets are closing in, and once they arrive he loses all practical hope of capturing Terra. He may feel desperate enough to opt for a concentration of force over time; i.e. choosing to whittle us down with a continuous stream of fresh ships. His first waves would take a beating, but by the time all of his ships are present he may hope to have beaten us down through pure attrition.”
“It is a risky proposition considering the superiority of Terran warships,” Nazar noted. “Khandar would have to indeed be desperate to give up his numerical superiority. If he is only able to engage you with a like number of warships in each wave then I foresee he shall see each wave soundly defeated.”
“I am inclined to agree,” Alexander said. “As much as Khandar might like to order a complete attack I think he’ll pull back for a coordinated attack. He’ll hit us in a concentrated attack, an all or nothing throw. He must take Terra in one swift thrust. He has no other choice.”